


Emma Exudes BDE

by emmacortana



Series: emmajules fics :) [2]
Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Diego is a prick but not rlly, Emma has BDE, Julian is sweet bean, She's very strong, i luv them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmacortana/pseuds/emmacortana
Summary: Emma is very strong. Diego says he's stronger. Julian helps Emma prove her point.
Relationships: Emma Carstairs & Cristina Rosales, Julian Blackthorn & Emma Carstairs, Julian Blackthorn/Emma Carstairs, a lil bit emma & Diego
Series: emmajules fics :) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709305
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Emma Exudes BDE

**Author's Note:**

> I promise this story isn't about dicks I swear I just needed a good hook
> 
> also I wrote this with the intention of making it Emma/jules as always and I even interchanged Diego with like mark or other characters to see how it fits and I decided to use Diego and only afterwards did I realize that like,,, this could be seen as an Emma/Diego fic?? but who ships that anyway so it doesn't matter but they r like, friends.
> 
> also this fic takes place in a version of tea in which after lady midnight, kit is there, everyone's happy, except Julian and Emma r still close so I don't think the whole romance thing happened to them yet as of this fic but they're definitely a lil ooh la la. so mild au I guess?? but barely. I think it's like a just read it out of context thing.
> 
> I cranked this out at 4 am instead of doing my math hw
> 
> kk bye lol

Emma didn’t _need_ to show that hers was the biggest dick in the room. It was, well, implied.

The product of years of killing herself training, she had abs as hard as steel and the endurance to show for it. And it wasn’t like she showed off, per say. It was just that doing everything tamely was so boring. Why not add a little spice when she could?

And she could. By God, she could.

Besides, Tavvy and Dru always appreciated her little flips, cheering whenever they watched. Julian hadn’t been a big fan when she was first learning, and he still wasn’t quite happy with it, but when they had saved her life on more than one occasion, he relented with a tight lipped smile. Cristina had always met them with equal parts delight and exasperation.

So even though she wasn’t showing off, it was no secret that she was _physically gifted_.

So when somebody challenges that notion, claims that they’re stronger, or faster, or more flexible, or more skilled—well, she couldn’t let the slander aside.

Which was why she had arm wrestled Kieran, after he’d baffledly called her “beautiful,” which roughly translated to “why does she bother with shadowhunting if she’s pretty.” And she’d won. Easily.

Which was why she and Mark trained together on the nights they couldn’t sleep, hours upon hours of sweaty matches, and Mark had only been vigorously trained for a year and a half in faerie and Emma had five.

Which wasn’t to say that Emma could beat Mark in a fight any day. In fact, she thinks they are exceptionally well matched—a fair fight if any. But Emma’s skillset was broader, and her use of Cortana extensive. Mark hadn’t claimed a shadowhunter weapon before he was taken, and after it, he had used elf shot. Not very useful in fighting demons.

In both cases, Emma hadn’t necessarily put them in their place, but rather put herself in hers—at their equal. Someone to be respected.

But Diego….

He was going _down._

-

It was a summer afternoon, and the training room was packed with most of the shadowhunters of the institute. Aside from Julian, who was putting Tavvy down for a nap (he was technically too old, but the lot of them had stayed up the night before on research, and Tavvy could get sulky when he was tired.) Dru had joined Ty and Kit on the sidelines, watching Livvy match Cristina and Emma with Diego. And it would’ve been fine, if Diego _wasn’t holding back._

At first, Emma had scowled and gotten on with it. Living with the Blackthorns, she had never had a match with someone where her opponent was holding back. It was unheard of. Livvy always gave it her all, and Cristina might keep it lighthearted but there was bite to her attacks, too. Mark considered it, once, she thinks, but when she had the first swing and took it with all her strength, he quickly had to go into defense, nothing held back.

Julian was the only exception—and he certainly didn’t do it because he underestimated her. It was because he was her parabatai, he knew her more than herself, and he understood that sometimes, it wasn’t about whether you won, but how you flowed together, anticipating each of their moves, more like dancing than fighting.

Only this wasn’t one of those times, and Diego was _not_ Julian, and each of his strikes were so easy to deflect it was basically an insult.

His sword came down on her, a clean arc headed for straight down her head, and one that was immediately blocked by Emma, meeting the edge of his sword with the flat of her own, raising it with both hands.

“God!” She yelled, fuming, twisting Cortana and flinging her sword arm out, ripping Diego’s from his hand. A simple disarming technique that _never should’ve worked on him_.

What was worse was the mild “Congratulations,” that Diego had the nerve to offer her, picking up his sword again. “Another round?”

Emma flipped around at him, fury in her eyes. Livvy and Cristina had stopped sparring at some point, watching the conflict. And yeah, Emma felt a little bad that Ty’s hands were making slightly nervous movements, (she saw Kit nudge him from the corner of her eye,) and Cristina didn’t look all that thrilled, but the wicked flames mirrored in Livvy’s eyes was more than enough to fuel her further. “I’m not sparring you until you figure out how to _actually_ fight, you ass.”

“I don’t understand, what's wrong? You’ve won many times now, surely you must be happy?” Diego gave her a polite smile. Emma’s blood had never felt so hot in her life.

“What’s _wrong_ is that you’re holding back. Or are you that poor of a swordsman?”

“You’re very skilled,” Diego said. If Emma was any farther from the edge, she’d almost say he sounded amused.

“And your mother never taught you how to parry?” She huffed. “I find that hard to believe.”

Diego ( _finally_ ) shut up for a minute, thoughtfully looking at Cortana, in Emma’s hands. Emma, on the other hand, was still flushed with rage; ready to—well, she didn’t know what exactly, but it can’t have been good for Diego.

At long last, Diego let out a sigh, meeting Emma’s eyes again. “You’re very skilled,” he said honestly. “But it takes more than just skill, sometimes. I’m much larger than you—one strike that you can’t block could be it.”

The thing about honesty is that sometimes it’s just as frustrating as the lie.

“Jesus Christ,” she threw her hands up in the air. “Sharp objects here. All it takes is one strike for anybody. What’s the difference? Also,” she silenced his interruption before it began, “you are vastly underestimating my strength.”

Diego’s perfect eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “I’m sure you’re very strong in consideration, but—”

Emma’s eyes narrowed. This guy just doesn’t let it go.

In cases like these, it was important not to just put herself in her place, but also maybe knock him down a few.

“You, me. Pushups. Now. Whoever maxes out first loses.” She turned to Cristina. “Can you coach?”

She smiled at Emma. “Of course. Now on the ground.”

She and Diego lay on the ground, pushing themselves up into a planck stance. Cristina glanced over to check their forms, and Livvy cheered for Emma from where she had joined her siblings and Kit.

“Clock starts now!”

They rose and fell with Cristina; obeying her steady commands of “Up” and “Down” repeatedly. It wasn’t a very fast pace—in fact, it was probably only 20 a minute. But they had to make sure it was an even contest: with Cristina rhythmically saying the commands and the four kids counting out the reps.

“100….101…..102…”

It was ten minutes in when Julian finally joined them, walking into the training room to find Emma and Diego devotedly doing push ups, one after another after another. The kids had gotten up to 180 now, and neither were showing signs of stopping. Emma could see the slight strain on Diego’s arms—a vein popping out where it wasn’t before, and she wasn’t too proud to admit that she herself was beginning to feel the drain.

But Julian was here, and Emma redoubled her efforts.

“What’s going on?” She heard Julian ask, somewhere between curious and entertained. Ty was the one who replied, matter-of-factly and cut to the point.

“Diego was going easy on Emma while they were sparring so she challenged him to a push up contest.” His voice didn’t sound tense, which was good. If she had to guess, Emma would even say Ty was quietly amused.

“And how long has this been going on?” Emma could see from the edges of her vision that he was getting closer, walking from Cristina towards her. Julian’s shoes were probably not a good thing to focus on right now, so she sneaked a glance at Diego. Definitely struggling, but the kind in which it hurt to do it, but he could still go on for a while yet. Diego caught her looking and gave her a smile.

“You tapping out soon?” His eyes were laughing, at Emma decided she liked him a lot better when he was like this—friendly, approachable, not as much of a douche.

“Please, we’re not even at 300.”

Although they were getting close. Dru’s voice rang out clearly as she counted 249, 250, 251; Ty and Livvy talking to Julian about something she couldn’t make out.

And then suddenly, a weight fell on her back, nearly pushing her down from the sheer surprise, but Emma had done weighted push ups many times before, and she somehow managed to keep her back straight, arms barely bending from the added mass.

 _Julian Fucking Blackthorn had fucking_ sat _on her._

It wasn’t as if they hadn’t done this before—much of their childhood was him sitting on her back reading a book as Emma did push ups. Or sit ups. Or anything exertive, really. Julian wouldn’t let her stop until he reached a specific page number, when she could finally take a break, and then start all over again.

Well, if Emma had asked really nicely, there was no way Jules would’ve been able to deny her a break. But Emma didn’t work like that, and she was very grateful for it now, because she kept at the push ups, rhythm unchanging, form still perfect, one after another after another.

It took another minute for Diego to glance over at his side again, seeing Emma with her new friend in tow, and the shock of it made his sweaty palms slide outwards just a bit, and that was enough to bring him down. A laugh startled out of Emma, as she gently lowered herself down and flopped her arms out. She’d won, anyway, and she had to say she was really feeling the soreness in her arms.

Julian, however, perched on her back, seemed to disagree. “Hey,” he said, poking her in the shoulder. “Did I say you could stop?”

She sighed, adjusting her arms underneath her again and lifting herself up. Julian had changed positions—at first, he had been sitting on her perpendicular, facing his siblings while resting on her like a chair. Now, he was sitting Criss Cross Applesauce, facing the same direction as her, leaning forward. How he managed to keep balanced was beyond her, as she started the push ups again. Her arms felt like gelatine, but she forced them to bring her up, down, up, down.

It was very nice to see Diego watching in disbelief.

It was also very nice when Julian had gathered all the stray hairs that had escaped from her now loose ponytail, undoing the elastic, and held her hair back for her as she laboured. Her hair was damp with sweat and probably disgusting, but it had also been getting in her way, sticking to her eyes and what not. It was very nice that he did that.

At last, Julian seemed to find her performance acceptable, slipping off her back and watching her collapse on the sweet, cold floor.

“Come on,” Julian said, offering her a hand she didn’t have the energy to take.

“Nooooo,” she mumbled, followed by an “mmph.”

Julian just grabbed her hand anyway and pulled her up, and Emma absolutely didn’t give out a startled “Eek!” and she most certainly did not sway on her feet, needing Julian to stabilise her with his hands on her forearms.

She totally didn’t.

Jules gave a slow smile at her, bright and sweet. “Good round. We should do it more often,” he joked. Emma rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I really missed having spaghetti for arms,” she replied, halfheartedly lifting them for emphasis.

His eyes were lit, ocean blue with touches of green, sparkling with mischief. Emma realized she hadn’t seen much of him at all today. She’d probably end up stopping by his room before bed, catch up, relax.

She’d need a shower first. A very long, very cold one.

Speaking of showers, so did Diego, and probably everyone else in the training room. But especially those two.

“Care to join us for more sparring?” Emma offered. It was always nice to have your parabatai as your sparring partner, just as fun as it was to fight alongside them in another match. Emma would never turn down a chance for them to work together.

“Maybe next time,” said Julian a little bit remorsefully. “I have a lot of studying to do, and I need to check on Uncle Arthur. But we could catch up tonight?”

Emma smiled. “I’ll be there.” She was about to turn around, retrieve Cortana from its lonely place on the wall, when she remembered he still had something of hers. “Jules?”

He hummed.

“My hair tie,” she said, and Julian nodded in remembrance as he dug the elastic band from inside his pocket and tossed it over to her. She caught it with one hand, quickly pulling her hair up. “Thanks.”

She gave him a quick hug, kissing his cheek, before turning away to join the others, who were redividing into sparring partners. “Emma,” Cristina grinned. “Want to spar with me?”

Emma winked at her. “Maybe next match? I believe that someone and I have unfinished business.”

Diego playfully rolled his eyes at her. “You won by chance. I could’ve kept going if I hadn’t slipped.”

“Sure,” replied Emma, picking up Cortana and swinging it around lazily. “I need a shower. And for the record, so do you. But first, we need a rematch.”

A corner of his lips quirked up. “Alright. Rematch.”

Emma glared at him, putting whatever fire she could into it. “And you’d better not hold back.”

Diego raised his eyebrow at her, and she tried to suppress a smile. “After what happened last time? I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.”

**Author's Note:**

> if u liked this, go check out my other work called Fight Me? It's also Emma/Julian but more heavy on the fluff and it's based on that Tumblr prompt about a patient asking a nurse to fight me and they keep flirting.
> 
> also I promise that one's a lot better like the writing itself is. much better bc I spent time into it and got rlly into the prompt
> 
> thx for reading bye


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